Dark Of Heart
by somemoxsomejen
Summary: Next in the series, following Dark of Night
1. Chapter 1

( Sequel to Dark of Night, takes place 14 months later...)

Some bloody immortality this was turning out to be, Davy mused. Alone, in the night, engulfed in the smells and noises of the city around him, he took stock of his present situation. His friends were no longer a haven of refuge. Together for nearly 100 years, each man seemed to be drifting further into his own realm. Mike walked the fine line between the world of the night and the domestic partnership he shared with his mortal wife Mira. Peter was erratic, not unlike a hormonal human teen; Micky was...well, ol' reliable Micky was strangely absent these days, probably taken up with another one his 'girlfriends'.

Of late, no one was getting along. Tonight, on rising to feed, the house had been broiled in tension between the formerly close knit vampire clan. Mike and Mira's foster daughter, Fiona, had been asked to the Junior Prom, which threw her and Mira into the flurry of dress shopping and jewelry matching madness modern women adored. However, Peter, who had staked his claim on the teenager years ago, was furious, insisting his Fiona not be allowed to go anywhere with another male. He had even gone so far as to snarl at Mira, which was damn foolish as far as Davy was concerned. The Brethren had nothing on Mike's wife in a temper. Before her husband could intercede, Mira had stood nose to nose with the younger blond vampire.

"You listen here, Peter. That kid has had a hard life and this prom is the first thing she's been excited about since moving in. School hasn't been easy and she's still finding her way. If you think I'm going to let you pull that alpha male crap and take her first date away from her...."

_I am well aware of the difficulty in her adjustment. However, she is mine and I will not allow other males to touch her_, Peter responded, the veiled threat clear in his telepathic voice.

That had been days ago and now at their sleeping house, away from Mira's apartment, the tension still hung over them. Mike was angry and on edge, defending his wife and foster child. Peter was morose and petulant, the wait for the girl to become an adult nearly unhinging him. Micky had the right idea, Davy decided, fleeing the place from sundown til before sunrise and avoiding everyone all together. Which left him, Davy, the only one who seemed content to eat and hunt and exist simply as what he was, a vampire.

Rubbing his temples, Davy wished for the good old days to return, the happy times they had lived before women and 17 year old girls and hormonal vampire puberty had hit their world like a tornado. Turning his attention back to the summer street nightlife, he halfheartedly scanned for an easy meal.

That's when he saw..those legs. The longest tanned expanses of skin, and as his gaze travelled upward, the rest of her was just as stunning. She was wearing a miniskirt that had to be illegal but it was only slightly bigger than her cleavage straining top. Defying gravity and every man's lust, her impressive er, gifts, were barely covered and her toned midrift was totally bare. When she sauntered under the glow of a neon saw sign, Davy discovered she was blond, with long hair that hung past her shoulders. Dinner suddenly became appealing again. Shifting away from the anonymity of the shadowed night, the British man blended into the crowds of happy bar hoppers meandering the street. Several other enticingly clad women moved about the traffic of bodies but Davy's focus was trained on the blond. She was hard to miss, a tall amazon, at least 6 foot in his estimation. He hoped she tasted as delicious as she looked. Perhaps he would slake his other appetites tonight as well. Other men of his kind did not seem capable of sex with mortal females but Davy had never had any problem doing so. Vampires were strange about their rules over that sort of thing, so he kept his promiscuity to himself.

When he was close enough to smell her luscious flowery skin, he brushed a finger down her bare arm. The woman gasped and spun around to face him. Surprise dissolved on her features and she flashed him a sultry grin. "Hello," she said.

" 'Ello, yourself, beautiful. Waiting for someone?" Not that it mattered to him. Within a few minutes, he'd be getting his way....

Her green eyes went over his body, from head to toe. Being short frustrated him all throughout his mortal life but as a vampire it served wonderfully for conveying "I'm not a threat". She wet her lips and leaned closer. "I was waiting for you. What sounds good tonight, cutie?"

Ah, so it was like that was it? Davy couldn't believe his luck; she seemed more than eager. "I was thinking of ducking into some place private and enjoying the company of a beautiful woman."

"I think that can be arranged." She feathered his hair away from his forehead. "But it'll cost you. Can you pay?"

He had no idea what she was talking about, these modern girls and their verbal foreplay. But right now, he'd swear he was the Pope if it got them alone. "Yea sure. So you interested then?" When she nodded, Davy reached for her hand.

What happened next, he would never fully be able to explain to himself later on. Vampires each had their own special gift, not unlike people, and his had been speed. So it defied reason that with his accelerated abilities, having gathered the woman's consent, he should suddenly find his arm yanked behind him as his chest was thrown to the ground. Before he was even flat on the pavement, the woman had her knee dug into his back and bearing her full weight down on him. "What the bloody--?"

"You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law." The flirty sweet voice was now all business and perversely Davy found it almost hotter. He liked women who liked to call the shots.

"As much as I like playing rough, love, I have to ask what the fuck you're doing?", Davy asked around a mouth of dirt and gravel.

"Shut up, perp. You're under arrest for soliciting prostitution." She sat up and yelled, "DEACON!"

Prostitution? He had done no such thing! "I wasn't trying to hire...."

Davy saw a huge black giant of a man in uniform rushing over. Now was not the time to explain his actions. "Good work, Officer Hill." the man barked.

"You got it on tape?" the blond asked.

"It's all here. Once he's mirandized, I'll run him downtown." The male cop pulled Davy to his feet. "No more fun tonight, Hobbit."

All right, Davy had had enough. It was one thing to have that goddess manhandle him, but having the black Rambo tease him about his height was his limit. Time to put that speed to use. Years of honing his skill had taught Davy that he didn't necessarily need strength; catching someone off guard with the force of his quickness could usually dislodge him from a bigger and stronger opponent. Handcuffs were a silly device that even a novice vamp could his hands and compressing them together, Davy slid the restraining metal from his wrists, making sure SuperCop wasn't watching. And he wasn't; his captors were engrossed in congratulating each other.

"Damn fine work, Cassie."

The amazon called Cassie beamed. "Thanks Sargeant Chenoweth. I was so nervous..."

Her superior officer shook his head. "Couldn't tell. Take 5 and we'll set up shop over on Brunswick Avenue."

"Tha's a lovely plan, hope it works for ya." Davy snapped up and grabbed the female officer's chin in his hand laying a loud and messy smooch right smack on her lips. Much too soon for his liking it was over and she was sputtering her outrage. Davy tossed the metal handcuffs straight towards the big male policeman and as the cop instinctively reached up to catch them, the shorter Brit dove around him and took off in a burst of instant motion.

"Freeeze!" he heard Officer Hill yell.

You must be joking, Davy smirked to himself. There was still time to eat but any other female would taste bland after that brief kiss from Officer Hill. Her lips had been soft and yielding, not expecting his sudden one brief instant, his tongue had brushed hers and the sweet flavor of her gum, mingled with the darker spicier essence of the woman herself, had been intoxicating. There was another matter, too, Davy grumbled mentally. A man had his pride; over 300 years old now, he should have known better, his instincts should have gone off with bells and whistles. Using those fantastic legs and that heavenly body, she had bested him. Pride demanded satisfaction and armed with only her name, he decided he would he would get that gorgeous blond back.

*

The perp was gone. No sight of his retreating back, no flicker of movement across the parking lot. The British culprit dashed away and within 10 feet he disappeared. Her first bust was a flop. Cassie shoved both hands into her hair and blew out a frustrated breath. So many weeks busting her ass to get off the beat and worked up to Vice and her initial arrest escaped. More than a place on Vice was on the line here for Cass; as a rookie and a female, she had to try twice as hard to prove her ability. And good work in Vice for a couple years could fast track her opportunity to get into Narcotics or even, dare she hope!, Homicide.

Sargeant Chenoweth jogged back over to Cassie. He had taken off running after the criminal but it was to no avail. "Dammit, Hill, who taught you how to cuff?" he growled and flung his hat to the street.

Great, this was how he was going to blame her. Three more fellow officers, dressed in street clothes for the sting, dashed over. "Those cuffs were on tight, Sarge. I've worked beat for 3 years. I know what I'm doing."

"Bullshit, Hill. He was off and running as soon as I got him to his feet." He turned to the other male cops. "You believe this shit? Get me Amy or Kate out here in gear. Tell rookie to hit the showers." he said with out even glancing back at Cassie.

As the group broke up, Cassie heard one of the other men snidely ask, "She must suck dick better than she cuffs or they wouldn't have forced us to take her." Laughter and snickers floated over to where the dejected female cop stood. Of all the insults, that particular one never failed to piss her off. People assumed any career advance, any special commendation for her work was based on her looks. Or worse, they whispered that she had slept her way into the department or into any recognition.

That asshole, she fumed, back in the empty women's locker room. This was his fault; she'd set the trap and he'd jumped right in. She'd nailed Mr. Blimey Spot O' Tea and his ass should have been sitting in a cell at that very minute. Chenoweth would complain to anyone who would listen and her coworkers would now treat her worse, assuming that it had been her error and she really didn't deserve her place on Vice. All because of some little pervert contortionist and his damned Olympic sprinting.

"HILL", a male voice bellowed followed by loud banging on the metallic locker room door.

Recognizing the voice Lt. Michael Palma's voice, Cass shouted back, "Just me in here, Mike. C'mon in."

The older man, dressed in rumpled shirt and tie, was her friend and her only ally. While her family and other cadets had rolled their eyes at the Barbie blond in their midst, the Lieutenant had recognized her drive and her talent behind the looks. Privately Cass believed the higher ranking officer's help and kindness might come from the resemblence she shared with his deceased daughter, the victim of a drunk driver. But in a hostile station he had stood up for her and convinced Chenoweth's Vice team that she deserved a shot. So she couldn't feel anything but grateful that he was on her side. Michael glanced around nervously and seeing no other women, heaved a sigh of relief and plunked down and the warped old bench. From his less than enthused expression, it was obvious he had all ready heard. "What happened out there, Cass?"

Drawing a deep breath, the rookie cop struggled for words. "I nailed a potential john but... he did this... trick or something and got outta the cuffs. Chenoweth threw a fit and said it was because I didn't restrain him properly."

Michael waved his hand. "Look, I don't even care that the dirtbag got away. Small time crap like that isn't the issue here. Deacon's made plain and clear that you're so inept, you bungled even the simplest of tasks." Her mentor never beat around the bush and any other time, his frank honesty would mean a lot. "Dammit, Cass, he wants you moved and he's going to get his way." When she began to argue, he held up a hand to stop her. "If it was just him, I could ignore the complaints but he's got his whole team on board and I'll be lucky if I can squeak you by without a disciplinary hearing."

All that hard work...gone. Tears welled up in her eyes but Cass would not give in. "Great. Geesh." She slammed her locker shut. "Should have just gone out with the jerk and played nice. Then at least I'd have a chance."

"Don't say that, kiddo---"

"Well everyone assumes it all ready, Mike. Might as well just do it and get the benefits." Cassie sunk down to the floor, sitting so that her elbows rested on her knees. "Nevermind, I'm...tired. Don't know what I'm saying."

Michael stood up. "Chill for a few days, gal. I know how hard this hurts but it's going to work in your favor. I'm sending you back to your old beat but this time, you'll technically be doing some snooping for homicide."

Instantly, Cass perked up. Michael unfurled a rolled up sheet and handed it to her. "We got some nutjob out there that thinks hes a vampire. Found our third victim today, drained of blood. This guy in the shot, he's been spotted with all three victims."

The photo was a grainy black and white surveillance camera image, frame frozen and captured at the moment a young man appeared to be in conversation with a dark haired female. A chill ran down Cass's spine. She had seen that face only hours ago....oh dear god. She clamped her eyes shut. Had she let a murderer go free?


	2. Chapter 2

It was hours later that Cass found herself pouring over Palma's case notes. Sleep hadn't come last night and she dreaded going back to the station, opting instead to follow Lt. Palma's advice and sit home until called in. From her bed she had been able to see the police uniform hanging inside her closet, mocking her. How humiliating it was to put that suit back on; perhaps the biggest motive in moving over to Vice had been leaving behind the traditional cop attire and the sexist remarks it drew about her body. "Officer Simpson", one of the less vulgar names she had been called, was due to her resemblance to pop singer Jessica and Jessica's infamous chest.

With coffee in hand, Cass gathered up the papers strewn across her bed and mentally went over the major facts of the case. Three girls murdered, possibly by one killer; two were drained of blood and had massive cuts and bites to the carotid artery. The first victim was too badly decomposed when her body was discovered to positively identify a cause of death, but she was a prostitute like her unfortunate successors. All three had been dumped along the river. The latest casualty showed signs of a brutal attack and post mortem mutiliation. Cass furrowed her brow; escalating violence never bade well in homicide. Each girl's brief life and physical stats were hastily summed up and reduced to one single page. This too made Cassie's brain churn, all the victims had shoulder length dark hair but more importantly they were all of various heights and weights over 5 ft 10 inches. Last night's crash and dash was maybe 5 ft 5. Assuming he was the killer, how was he subduing these women? Why didn't they simply fling him off of them when he began to bite?

The last envelope contained the surveillance photo of the suspect; Cassie slid it out and discovered two more black and white images, both of poor quality. Apparently Palma had the guy tailed because the shots were candid pictures of him going about the local bars. One the first image, she found nothing interesting or that could be a potential clue, just a side profile of the short Brit walking across a parking lot, presumably to his car. The second shot was equally devoid of any immediate information; again, the suspect walking down a street, talking with two obscured males. There was dark haired female with her arms wrapped around the waist of the taller male. From a glance, it appeared to be friends, leaving a bar, sharing a laugh.

But...something made Cass uneasy. On second look, the only other visible face was the woman's, in profile. Unsure why, the face made Cass's spine tingle. A dark haired woman....Cass got up and headed for the bathroom; her eyes were bleary from reading the endless lines of cramped handwriting and she needed a hot shower to soothe the ache in her slumped shoulders. It wasn't until her hair was lathered that her brain made the connection. Ignoring the sting of shampoo clouding her vision, Cass stared at the shower wall.

She knew that face. That was an old highschool galpal, Mira Lambert.

"Shit!" she screamed to the silent apartment. A quick glance at the bed confirmed her worst fear; even though it was closing in on one year since she had seen her, and Mira appeared... different in some intangible way, Cass was convinced she knew that wasn't even time to rinse, instead grabbing her robe and dashing for her phone. On the fifth ring, she got an answer.

"Um..hello?" came the soft voice of a young girl.

Cass frowned. Who the hell was this? "Yea, hi. I'm trying to reach Mira Lambert.'

"Oh", the voice disappeared for a moment and Cass heard giggles on the other end of the line. "Knock it off," the girl whispered to someone else in the room with her. "Um, sorry she's at work until 6. Can i take a message or give you her cell number?"

Ugh, it was just as well, Cass thought. Mira was alive and apparently ok. She didn't want to interupt her friend at work and she definitely needed time to figure out what she was going to say. Hint around for clues? Come right out and demand answers? "No, thanks. I guess I'll call back ..later."

" 'K," was the girl's answer and she quickly hung up the phone.

Shampoo was running down her back now. Time to finish her shower. And the first question she planned to ask Mira was who was the kid moonlighting as her receptionist?

*

"Crap, that was close!" Fiona flung the cordless phone off the bed. "I can;t believe I answered. Mira's gonna find out I skipped school and she'll ...geesh, Mike won't be happy either..." The teen rolled back to the middle of the bed and wound her arms around Peter. They were both clothed but it was getting increasingly difficult to stop at that level now that they had found a way to be together.

Peter was kissing her neck, sucking on her ear. _Forget it, she hasn't caught us yet_.

Which was a miracle, they both knew. But despite the lying and sneaking and skipping school, neither she nor Peter could feel badly for what they were doing. Fiona needed to see him, to touch him; sometimes 3 days would pass before her foster parents would let them hang out together and during the wait it nearly killed Fiona. This morning she had broken out in a cold sweat and stomach pains that doubled her over. Using their private path of mental communication she had pleaded with Peter to come over to the apartment. By now it was a familiar routine; she would 'leave' for school, watch until Mira's car was gone then hurry back inside and wait for Peter. She knew it was dishonest and wrong; Mira was her friend and had done so much to help her. Somehow the force that made her crave having Peter near was stronger and it pushed away her good sense.

Early each morning for a couple hours, she and Peter could sit together and talk. Well .....thats what Fiona intended in the beginning. Hugs led to chaste kisses that led to touching and within a week they were spending hours making out on Fiona's bed. How nobody knew she didnt understand, those few hours with her angel made her body sing and her face glow. And it didn;t hurt that Peter was an amazing kisser who made her knees weak just looking at her. She made it to afternoon classes but found them equally insufferable.

"Thank you for coming, Peter. You're the only thing that makes the day bearable."

_I couldn't stay away. I would have called for you had you not reached out for me first._ He slid a hand under her shirt, Fiona arched into his palm cupping her breast before grabbing his wrist and pulling the wandering appendage back. Her ardent boyfriend rolled onto his back and covered his face with his hands._ I will die if I don't have you soon._

"I feel that way too," she curled up to his side. "But we....

_I know, Fiona. We will wait. _He took her hand and kissed her knuckles, a wry grin on his face._ If I die of wanting you, I go a happy man._

" Peter....do you think Mira will hate me for lying to her? I didn't mean to, its just...she's so wrapped up in Mike.."

_They have each other. I don't think she will hate us_, he carefully included himself in the blame,_ but she and Mike have little interest beyond each other._

"That's not true." She inhaled the smell of Peter's skin. He always smelled so..clean. Soapy. "She's spent so much time on finding me my first formal gown. She even made Mike go with us to the fitting..and he only sees her at night so that...." the girl trailed off her original comment. "Why is it Mike's only around at night? I know he works a lot but damn, not even like a day off! And he's up til 4 or 5 so he goes to work on no sleep! Mira's always so damned exhausted, too 'cause she's up with him then off to the hospital..."

There was no answer from Peter but Fiona noticed his demeanor change. Clearly this was a subject he didn't want to discuss with her_. Forget Mike and Mira_, he rolled back over ontop of her. _You don't really want to go to this dance with that boy do you Fiona? _He kissed her deeply, slow wet duel of tongues._ You know you're mine, Fiona. You can;t stand other men near you._

Her fingers playing with his hair, she looked into his eyes and told him, "I only want you, Peter."

*

Every rule of etiquette screamed against dropping in on a person without at least calling first. However, etiquette wasn't one of Cassie's priorities today. Catching people off guard revealed more and she wanted to weigh Mira's immediate response when she questioned her about the British man. Towards the afternoon, she had been called in to work, and sat down for a long, undeserved reprimand at the hands of Capt. Harris. Chenoweth sat in the corner, smirking, and Lt. Palma wasn't allowed to say much in her defense. Being demoted back down to beat cop only fueled her desire to get a firm lead on the murders.

And if only to herself, Cass admitted that showing up was the best way to reconnect with her old friend. Phone calls gave one too many chances to evade or brush off the other party. After thinking back, trying to remember the last time she had even seen the bubbly nurse, Cass had drawn a blank. Mira's health had been too bad for their class reunion a couple years back and she had been in the hospital during their mutual friend Leanne's wedding. It was as if she had dropped off the face of the earth or became an urban legend that everyone heard about but never saw. To Cass this begged the question, did she not want to be found?

Parking a few buildings away, Cass made the walk through tall stacks of high end lofts and bungalows. Mira lived in one of the town's more exclusive neighborhoods but it had been quite some time since Cass had been over this way. On her third left turn past the same waterfall garden, she realized she was lost. The digital read out on her cell phone screen read 8:27, long past time she could hope to find the office and ask for help. She was seconds away from conceding defeat and calling Mira, thereby blowing the element of surprise when she caught the faint lilting tone of a British accent. It...couldn't be...?

Highlighted by the artificial glow of the security lights, Cass saw the little jerk standing 30 feet away, next to a thin man, with a bushy crop of hair. Her trained ears caught a snippet of their exchange.

"So yea," the Brits companion was saying. "I'm gonna head over to the theatre and check her out .I 'll see you whenever, Davy."

"Bah, Micky, you're never around any more. Leave me to deal with these loons, will ya?"

"You're more than qualified. See ya later." The taller, wiry man was gone almost as if he had evaporated into the dark. But Cassie wasn't even remotely interested with who he was; all her attention was fixiated on the man called Davy.

That sonofabitch! He just stood there, puffing his cigarette, not a care in the world. Of course, he had no cares! It was her job and career that were circling the proverbial toilet. Questioning Mira was a second hand priority now, this might be the her lone opportunity to catch 'Davy'. Fishing into her big carry all purse she grabbed her cuffs and her service revolver. "Let's see you get away from me with this, "she whispered to herself, the cool metal of her gun pressing into her palm.

Across the distance, Davy's head whipped around to her general direction. There was no way he heard her from over there?! But it seemed he had. Drawing a final drag on his smoke, he tossed the butt down and grinned. "Officer Hill, to what do I owe this pleasure?"

Evidently he had damn good ears and eyes, the ass. Cassie couldn;t discern if he saw her but her cover was blown now so time to move forward. "Quit being cute, Davy. I'm in no mood for your crap tonight. " Cass walked over to him, her gun tucked to hip.

"Think I'm cute then, do ya?" He waggled his eyebrows. " Couldn't stop thinking of me and had to hunt me down ?"

Cass rolled her eyes, "Yea, some thing like that. Hands up, dirtbag." With a look that spoke of amusement more than concern, Davy raised his arms, hands extended above his head. "Now turn around", the female cop ordered. Again he complied but Cassie got the distinct impression he was laughing at her. Without hesitating she slammed the cuffs across his wrists, tighter and harder than she would have normally, but determined he wasn't getting away this time. Embarassment stained her cheeks pink as she quickly and efficiently patted him down and she was grateful he couldn't see her discomfort. "All right, now we're gonna have a talk. Full name."

"David Thomas Jones.", he said on a chuckle. "Am I being booked again for attempting to sample your luscious body? " Looking back over his shoulder, he gave her a wicked grin. "Can I get a discount if I promise to be a repeat customer?"

The way he said it, the sultry, sexy thought of them together..Cassie ignored her heart jumping in her chest. No doubt, this was how he was luring women to their deaths, charm. "Not tonight, Mr. Jones. Tonight you're gonna answer me some questions about your recent interest in hookers." She swung him around to face her.

"Tha's fine, but how do you propose to make me talk?"

"With thi-", raising her hand to show him...where her revolver was supposed to be. Dammit, she had tucked her gun back into her purse to cuff him! "Shit." Pulling her bag down off her shoulder, she furiously dug around looking for the standard issue service piece. "I just had-" she grumbled to herself. Her bag was more of a carry on, since a lady cop on the go needed everything right at hand, and to make matters worse, the light was bad where she was standing. "It figures, just as I need the damn thing..."

"Can I help?" Davy held up a hand, the cuffs dangling from one finger. "Lemme have a peek, love."

Cass stared, open mouthed. This time, she had made damn sure the restraints were locked snugly. "You...how........", her bag slid from her hands and banged the ground at her feet.

"Very simple. You see," he blurred away. Cass blinked, frozen with fear and confusion. He was just standing in front of her and then......"I put my wrists back like this." his voice came from behind her. Unable to react fast enough, Cass felt Davy tug her limp arms behind her back. Cold metal encircled her wrist. "Then I press them together.." the lock clicked closed, "and slide my hands free. Now you try it."

Dear God, no! No no no! Was she as inept as Chenoweth insisted? How else had she let a murder suspect hand cuff her and get her away from her gun? Panic crept into her throat. "Jones, let me out of here immediately."

"Uh-uh, tha's not how you did it. What comes next?" Davy stepped in front of her, one arm crossed over his chest, the other holding his chin, as if he were pondering something profound. "Ah yes! You frisked me! Right-o then!"

She stepped back and nearly tripped over her purse. "One hand on me and it's assaulting an officer. Dammit, Jones," she swore when he advanced anyway.

"Start here, I s'pose," Davy lean over and skimmed his hands over her legs. " Sound as a pound."

"Don;t even try it, asshole." she warned again.

But he continued as if he hadn't heard. Gripping either side of her hips, his hands smoothed up her shirt. "Nothing hidden there. How about--?" Smiling like a cat in cream, he boldly reached up and cupped her chest.

"JONES!" she screeched.

"Hmm. No?" He moved his hands over her breasts repeatedly rubbing and squeezing. "Got to make sure though."

Summoning all her lower body strength, Cassie kicked forward as hard as possible. Her boot clad foot slammed into his stomach but the force of the kick threw off her balance and she went down on her back just as Davy fell to the pavement. "HELP," she yelled.

"What the hell---?" a woman's voice floated over them. From a second story balcony, a female head popped over the railing, looking down. "Davy? What's going on down there?"

A taller figure joined her. "Did I just hear a gal screaming ?," asked a man with a slight Texas twang in his words.

"Please help!" Cassie yelled up to them. "He's assailing an officer!"

"Cass?" Mira gasped. "What are you doing here?"

"Did he hurt you, lady? " the man next to Mira asked.

Davy groaned and rolled over, a stupid smile plastered on his face. " "Lo, Mira, Mike. I'm under arrest or sum'thin'."

*


	3. Chapter 3

Cassie sat down on the couch. Davy, all smiles,stretched out next to her. She moved down to the very end of the sofa and he followed suit. Annoyed, she opted to ignore him; this past hour, she had come to two conclusions. One, Davy Jones was not the killer. Instincts aside, he had not demonstrated any capacity for violence, either last night evading arrest or tonight when she was completely unable to defend herself. Pervert, maybe. Pain in the ass, absolutely. But murderer? It didn't jive.

Secondly, something strange was afoot with Mira. Oh, she was gracious and kind, laughing and joking after digging out the key and helping Cassie to her feet. When Cass had informed them of how she and Davy were acquainted, both Mira and the man she introduced as her husband Mike, had laughed and declared both rounds went to Davy. Underneath the happy demeanor, Cass caught a glimpse of..nerves or apprehension. Mira was tense about something. "Davy, you jackass, " Mira huffed, "don't you know you just made her look bad to the whole department?"

"Let's not go there," Cass declared, shooting Davy a malevolent glare. "He's got bigger worries than me. A few detectives plan on having a friendly chat with him" Cass fished the crime scene photos out of her purse and flung them onto Mira's coffee table, "over these."

Mira cringed and averted her gaze. Mike looked, angled his head as if he was trying to understand what he was seeing. "They think Dave killed these girls?" Mike posed the question to Cass.

"Well yes and no. All three were working girls, drained of their blood. Two were definitely bitten or stabbed around the neck. The theory is some weirdo thinks he's a vampire and is performing ritual murders. Your friend, "she jerked her thumb at Davy, "has been identified with all three prior to their deaths."

"Wait now, " Davy sat up straight, "I've never hurt a woman in my life. If they think..."

"Can it." Cass ordered him. "I don't think you did it. Unfortunately you have a tendency to turn up in bad places. Stay away from the downtown and let them look for a legitimate suspect."

"Can we be of any help to you ?" Mike offered. Cass had a hard time reading him but he seemed sincere.

There was noise at the front door. A dark haired girl appeared at the doorway to the living room and made a quick wave, turning to hurry off.

"Fiona, wait!" Mira called. The girl turned around and ventured a few feet into the room. "Cassie, this beautiful young woman is my foster daughter Fiona. Fiona, this is Cassie Hill; we went to school together." The teen mumbled a vague hello in Cass's direction.

The girl on the phone earlier. Had to be. "Nice to meet you Fiona. How old are you?" What pretty cat green eyes the teenager had.

"17." the girl spoke, rubbing the toe of her shoe into the carpet. When she noticed Davy it was a different story. "Hi, Uncle Davy!"

" 'Ello, Feef, you get your paper written?" he asked.

"Um, yea."

Cassie's cop senses kicked in. The kid was fidgetty and nervous and hesitant with her words, a prime sign of dishonesty.

_Are you home safe?_ At the sound, Cassie nearly spit her water out. As clear as a bell, a male voice had spoken. But it wasn't any person in the room.

_Yes; one of Mira's friends is here. Do you think they know? _This time it was Fiona's voice speaking. Cass looked at her water bottle. It had been sealed when Mike handed it to her; had some one dropped acid in it when she wasn't looking?

_You would have been confronted by now. I can't wait to see you tomorrow.... _this was from the male voice. Fiona blushed and looked back down at her feet. My god, Cass realized, she was mentally talking to another person. And Cass was unwittingly eavesdropping on their conversation. She had been right, too. Obviously, Fiona had snuck off to see this guy and used the cover of school work to do so. Mira was talking but Cass had missed whatever she had said.

"....and next week is Prom." Love for her foster daughter was evident in Mira's words, her attitude when the kid had entered the room. Mike too seemed to soften when he looked at the girl.

"I'm going to my room." Fiona nodded to Cassie. "Nice to meet you. Night Uncle Davy."

Mira cleared her throat. "Sorry about that, she's usually a little more outgoing. This year's been a big adjustment and homework's been really demanding on her."

I'll just bet, Cassie mused. "I understand. I was a foster kid myself." To Mike, she explained. " My mom had a pretty serious drug problem so I was raised by my aunt and uncle." She stood. It was nearly 10 now and she had work to do. "Time to troll the streets for pervs. Wish me luck."

Mira gave her friend and hug. Davy hung back as she walked to the door. "What in bloody hell does that mean?"

"Davy leave her alone..." Mira admonished.

"It means if this guy is after hookers, the best way to find him is to go downtown and wait for him to come to last night but without the embarassing Benny Hill impressions." She was an officer of the law. Serve and protect after all.

Davy however was not happy with this answer. "You're going parade around waiting for some killer? Bloody hell, Cassie, what if he tries to hurt you?"

"He can try," was all she said. And then she was gone.

*

"Down boy," Mike put hand on Davy's arm to halt him going after the lady cop. "We got our own problems to discuss."

"Mike is it another vampire who killed those women?" Mira wrapped her hand in his.

" Doesn't seem like it to me, babe."

"No Mira, a real vampire wouldn't want a body found. This guy's trying to get someone's attention." Davy craned walked over to the bay window and watched the blond cross the street to her car. "She's gonna be waving a steak at a puppy mill.", he muttered. He turned back to the married couple. "Guess my night's planned. See you two later."

*

300 years walking the earth and he still didn't know better than to never expect gratitude from a woman. Davy sighed and continued to enjoy the undulating sway of Cassie's ass in the leather short shorts. She had been canvassing these streets for a week, hunting up clues and contacts but wasn't any closer to finding her killer. Disappointment was palpable, radiating from her in waves. Pursuing the answers consumed all her attention, he knew, but still...after spending night after night, practically her shadow, watching over her, seeing that no one harmed her...and he, might add, at the expense of his own well being. Trailing Cass kept him from feeding; the other guys rationed their meals but Davy was used to eating every night. Hunger frayed his nerves to straining. If she did take notice of his presence, it was only to tell him to leave her alone.

Still, from his viewpoint, a second story windowsill of an abandoned store, things weren't all bad. Cass's lady of the night apparel, replete with long black wig, was more than worth the uncomfortable cramp in his back and hunger pains. It was nearly 2 am now and hours since she'd had an approach. Time to pack it in. "No takers tonight, Cass," he yelled to her. "Let's go back to your place and screw." She didn't turn around or otherwise acknowledge him except to raise her arm and extend a middle finger. Acerbic little thing, his lady cop was.

Even more uncomfortable than his position or occassional erection was the uncertainty of how to proceed next with Officer Hill. Women had always sought him out and now he wanted one who couldn't care less. He wanted to get to know her, find out more about the sad family life that had shaped her and why she choose such a dangerous profession. With her body and face she could be living it up somewhere.

A car, headlights off, crept down the street. Another potential john sizing her up. It went against his grain to see her out there exposed and vulnerable but Cass knew how to take care of herself. Davy crossed his arms and waited. When the driver side window of the vehicle lowered, Cass leaned over, lowering her body to talk to its driver. Davy groaned but kept his eyes glued to the fantastic way it exposed more of her delectable bottom. That very same backside twitched, one of her legs lifted. It took the British vamp a minute to realize that Cass was struggling to keep from being pulled into the car. Just as he feared, one of the creeps frequenting this area was getting too friendly.

Davy leaped with a burst of his trademark speed and was at her side instantly. The black wig was hanging half off and Cass was pulling back against the car door with all her might. Not wasting a minute, Davy grabbed Cassie's hips and shoved her behind him. "Fucking whore..." the attacker was screaming. Davy reached in and swung his fists, as the car took off. He managed one good hit to what he hoped was the man's face when he felt a hot sluice of pain pinch his side. His body twisted as the vehicle gained speed and he reluctantly released his grip, slamming into the street. Touching the burning ache in his ribs, Davy raised his hands. Blood was smeared across his fingers. The jagged tear meant he had been stabbed.

Before his head was back down, Cassie was cradling him in her lap. "DAVY!"

"Told you so," he teased weakly. The cut would heal over night with regenerative sleep. But days of not feeding, combined with the pain, blood loss, and sprinting took their toll. He needed to lay down.

Cass was fumbling in her bag. "Hang on, ok? Hang on. I'm calling for an ambulance now."

Shit! Using his last store of energy, Davy plucked the cell from her hand and crushed it in his fist.

"What the fuck are you doing? I'm trying to get you help !" the terrified woman pinned him closer, her hands running over him assessing the wound. Davy smiled, tired but content with being smothered in her cleavage.

"No," he said, wearily, "no hospitals. I'll be fine."

"You have to get looked at, this is serious...." She trailed off as Davy shook his head no. "Christ, I can't leave you here." His eyes fluttered shut and Cass slapped the side of his face repeatedly. "Davy. C'mon Davy stay with me. Shit." Thinking quickly, Cass shoved her bag under his head effectively propping him up. She dashed away and Davy her heard car starting a block over. While he felt his consciousness melting away, Cass grabbed him under the arms and laid him across the backseat. He had to eat and soon. The light receded and he passed out.

*

"...damn good thing you're so short." Cass was muttering. Davy tried to raise his head, but she shoved him back down into the cushions. "Stay still. If you bleed on my couch, I'll stab you myself."

"Where...", he moaned.

"My apartment, you hospital-phobe." She dabbed a cream onto the side of his torso and pressed a gauze bandage over her work. "Let me see what I can tape this up with." Surprisingly, Cass dragged his hair away from his sweaty forehead with an almost tender touch. "And thanks. For saving me."

Well, damn. Gratitude still existed. Ointments and bandages weren't going to help, though. Blood was the only medicine for getting back to his full strength. Under no circumstances could he see running that by Cass. Leaving to hunt was his best option. He began to sit up. The beautiful blond rushed back into the room, kneeling down next to the sofa.

"Lay off the tough guy act, Jones. You're injured and I'm taking care of you so lay back and enjoy it."

"I have to go, love. " His starving cells were demanding nutrition. Instinctively, his body reacted to the nearest available source, Cass; he could hear the flow of her life force surging with adrenaline. Fangs extended and he turned his head. "Need to leave."

"C'mon Dave, "she touched his bare chest, and he flinched. Her skin felt like a hot iron branding him. "You saved my life and I'm trying to return the favor. Tell me what you need and I'll..."

Perhaps if he had one of his comrades dietary discipline he could have lasted longer. As it was, Cass pushed her hair back and the animal impulse swamped him. The room turned a hazy reddish sheen and he lunged for Cassie's exposed throat. She gasped but didn't have a hope of backing away. His mouth clamped around her neck and she slumped over, her cries turning to a gurgle.

*

He circled the street again. The whore was gone. The man with her, he was one of them.

But not the right one. In a few hours, the sun would break the horizon. He had come so close tonight, so close to getting them back. The man gave a sigh and lovingly ran his thumb over the cracked and faded photo. Police officials laughed and he had battled 40 years of getting somebody, anybody, to take him seriously. Justice was dispensed to those who fought for it. Now it was all within reach.

Too much time and sacrifice had gone into the hunt for the man who had his destroyed his sister. Pleading and crying had not swayed him, and after using her as nothing more than a meal, he left her to die of a broken heart. Julie had wilted away from that cushioned seat in the window, always watching for his return. And now she would be avenged.

The man with the whore was not his target. But all was not lost. He found one of them. This one would lead him to his sister's killer.

*

Tamping down her panic, Cass remained perfectly still, her eyes wide open, concentrating her efforts on keeping her breathing calm. Whatever this...thing.. was feeding off of her, it was still Davy and he needed her. The suction of his mouth broke away; there was no way for Cass to know how much he had taken or what he intended do to with her, but she was very woozy and her mind was overcome with a strange lethargy. She looked up and found Davy staring back at her. With nothing to say, she watched and waited.

"I'm sorry I did that, " was all he said. When she didn't answer, he spoke again. "No I'm sorry I lied to you. Not for taking your blood. "

"Then you're.." she couldn't even bring herself to finish. Davy nodded. Another piece of the puzzle began to fall into place. "And Mira's...."

"No, she's not. Mike is. Words fail me just now, Cassie." He touched her cheek." I owe you some answers and I don't even know how to begin."

"Am I one too?" When Davy shook his head no, she sighed, relieved. "Are you going to make me like you? Have I died?"

He laughed. "Not at all, Cassie girl. My feeding doesn't change you. But any loss will weaken you for some time." He rose and adjusted her so that she was now propped up along the sofa. "Rest up. I'll make you some tea. While you're recovering, I'll try and sort all this out for you." Fascinated but also exhausted, Cass watched him peel her gauze bandage away from his ribs. Only smooth unblemished skin remained where minutes ago there had been a furious red laceration.

"Fuck tea. There's vodka under the sink. Get me a glass. " Funny how she all ready felt drunk. The entire sequence of events was too much. Hopefully her insurance covered psychiatric care. "Better just bring the bottle." Dementia had to be setting in because watching Davy sans shirt, the way his lean muscles glided as he moved made her forget the whole vampire thing.


	4. Chapter 4

Drumming her fingers on the keyboard, Cass had a million things to do and couldn't get her mind on any of them. First and foremost, she had to run the license number she memorized from last night's attack. Reluctantly, Cass had omitted telling Davy she had that piece of information. Instead he had done all the talking. Man, had he done some talking. She sipped at the lukewarm coffee and cursed the slow scrolling lines searching the database for a license plate match.

The first basic tenent of police work was to look at the evidence. Davy was playful, not hostile. He had taken a good heap of verbal abuse but still stood guard over her while she worked the street. He was...well, undead. But he hadn't harmed her, not intentionally. All the information she had gathered thus far reflected well on Mr. Jones. Complicating things was the fact that she liked him. She liked his flirting, his teasing, she even liked the way he pissed her off getting the upperhand. Physically, Cass found him immensely attractive but suspected he all ready knew that.

His story however, was incredibly hard to digest. A 300 year old man who lived with his similarly undead friends prowling the night, yea, that was tough to chew. One of said friends marrying and living part time with a human wife, even stranger. The mute and the orphan, that was just bizarre. It was his alleged biography but it sounded more like ingredients for a recipe of crazy. Worse, she actually believed him -at least enough to run background checks that came back blank for Davy and company. The next step was to get what records she could find for Fiona McKay.

So was she trusting Davy on her gut feeling or because she wanted to justify her attraction? Pushing her worry to the side, Cass surveyed the screen. An eternity passed but the registration details came back.

"Lee Stanley, aged 65, retired veteran.." Cass repeated to herself. The picture on the pc monitor was that of a nondescript, grey haired man, his heavily lined face making him appear older than his years. As a potential perpetrator, he wasn't the likely candidate. His age would impede his physical ability to assault and murder. Unless... Cass adjusted the reading glasses she used around the computer. Such a scenario made a lot of sense to her way of thinking. Very few streetwalkers would expect an old man capable of intense violence. Their guards would be lowered and their compliance would be high, thinking they had pulled in a quick job. Now what would the motive be? Navigating several more clicks Cass found no personal information that indicated an unhinged ritual killer. Beyond one DUI back in the 70s, he had no arrest record. Same area for his entire life. Never married; Cassie paused. A woman hater maybe?

Military records weren't available on police computers. Her only hope was to call the local Veterans Administration and plead a rush release on Lee Stanley's file. Getting no answer, Cass left a message, stressing her affiliation with the police department. Until the fax came back, though, there was little else to do. She emailed her friend in Child Protective Services for the Fiona McKay case notes then logged off for the day.

She felt like she was sleepwalking. This was her life and now it felt like she was watching it unfold around another person. Laptop in hand, she headed back home. All that was left was to wait.

*

Bang.

Cass jumped upright, her laptop clattering to the floor. Having gotten home she was hit with a hunch, so she had logged online to research. Exhaustion overtook her and she had fallen asleep. The lights throughout the apartment were on which sent her on high alert. She fell asleep around 5, long before the dark outside necessitated artficial illumination. In the kitchen, there was the noise of cabinets being shut and water running. The smell of something cooking reminded her that it had been over 12 hours ago since she had filled her stomach.

Davy was standing over her rarely used stove, mixing something in a skillet. He greeted her with a smile. "Hey."

"Hey yourself." She nodded to the food. "You cook too?"

"I do it all!"

"If it tastes as good as it smells, I'll marry you." she yawned.

"You're an easy woman to please, Cassandra. And you look adorable in your sleep. I apologize if I woke you." Her guest stepped past her to grab a plate. Out of nowhere he planted a kiss on her nose. "Been wanting to do that since I saw you, curled up like a kitten, drooling like a puppy."

She choked, half laughing half indignant. "I do not drool, Jones. Oh what the hell. I'm hungry so I'll let it slide this time." He handed her a plate and she led him to the living room. Always preferring casual comfort, Cass sat down indian style at the bare coffee table. Davy did the same.

"Please tell me you've got some new details on the vampire killer?" he asked as she took her first bite.

Cass moaned her appreciation. She loved shrimp and this meal was delicious. "First what is this?"

"Pan seared prawns in orange cilantro. You like?" her companion asked, please to see her enjoyment.

"I love. That offer to marry you is still good." Cass wiped her mouth with her napkin and got down to business. She trusted Davy and he was part of this case too. " I didn't mention it last night, what with all the getting to know you crap, but I snagged the numbers off our boy's plate. Ran the license at work today and the car is registered to a retired Vietnam vet. Nothing particularly stellar in his police file so I sent off to the Vet. Administration for help."

"An old man?" he asked.

"I'm as surprised as you but," she paused to sip her white wine. "I googled him to see if he had anything in the public domain. Turns out he lost a sister in the 60s, suicide. I'm not 100% on the details but it seems to the defining moment in this guy's life. He runs a memorial site for her as well updating it with a "Letters to Heaven" section, conversations he imagines having with her. The whole thing is chock full of innuedo that she was murdered. Hang on." The blond reached behind her and opened up her laptop. She pushed it across the table to Davy. "Scroll down the address bar, should be the first webpage there." Cass ate silently allowing Davy a chance to peruse Stanley's odd ramblings.

"He's off the deep end, tha's all there is to it." Davy peered back at the screen. "What's with the vampire ravings?"

"I dunno, but sure hates 'em, doesn't he? Click on "Proof of Evil"; it's a list of all the major news stories in the area with his analysis of how vampires are involved."

"Mental illness, Cassie. Sure we exist but he's trying to pin every car accident, every robbery homicide on us."

She nodded; on that they agreed. "Which is why I want his records. We need a better understanding of his behavior, diagnosis... any meds he may be on."

"Might be a faster answer listing the meds he should be on. What happens after you have enough proof to move in on this nutty buddy?"

Ugh, that. "I'm not a detective so I won't get further participation. Once I have the framework, I have to hand in over to a friend in homicide, Lt. Palma. " Appetite waning she pushed her plate away. "It sucks being on the low end of the totem pole, doing all the grunt work with nothing to show for it."

"Listen," Davy took her hand from across the table. "Im sorry for any way I contrib---"

What happened was done with and she was content to let it go."Forget it, Jones. Shit happens." She licked her lips. "You know, it's almost tragic that you can't taste your own divine cooking."

"Oh that," he shrugged. "It's been so long since I've tasted food.."

Cass could fix that. "Come here and kiss me then. You should be able to taste it on me."

Knocked off guard by Cassie's new attitude, Davy sputtered out a dry laugh. "You must be joking."

"It wasn't a suggestion." Cass narrowed her eyes at him. Most women played coy or consulted the self help section of the bookstore for an idea on letting a guy know she was interested. Subtle wasn't Cassie's style nor had she ever been the type to play the game. Liking someone was as natural as breathing and she saw no reason to dance around it. She sat up on her knees and grabbed his collar, pulling him over the table closer to her. Before he could lodge another protest, Cass took advantage of his open mouth astonishment and dominated him with her tongue. The initial surprise died down and Davy kissed back.

Between them, the coffee table was preventing their getting closer. Davy broke the kiss long enough to shove it aside in an impatient one handed sweep. The space loomed between them a scant second before the vampire dove on her. "Cass," he laved kisses along her jaw. "Lovely, lovely Cassie."

Romance could come later; at this moment, Cass was too content to enjoy the way her body reacted to his, the way her heart hammered as if she had been running for miles. Grabbing a hunk of hair on the back of Davy's head, she pulled his face back to hers. "Less talking, more kissing, Jones." His chest rumbled with muted laughter but he complied with Cass's demand. Twisting his fingers in her hair, he gave a hard yank and arched her backwards, granting him access to her nape. Making the most of the auspicious position, Davy licked his way down the modest neckline of her simple fitted top. Not satisfied to simply be taken, Cassie tugged Davy's shirt out from his belt and fumbled with the buttons. Frustrated and desperate to touch his naked skin, she growled and tore the fabric open, sending buttons spraying out in all directions.

"Bite me, " Cass hissed. "Use me, Davy. It's so hot, like you're an animal."

Now this was an interesting turn of events, Davy conceded with a rueful smirk. Previous women cringed at the act of feeding, finding it invasive or slightly painful. Cass was a creature of passion, though; she not only liked his primitive behavior, she insisted on having him at his darkest. Since tasting her mouth and feeling her bucking underneath, he had been careful to keep the dental accoutrements in check for fear of frightening her. What a mistake he had made ! As if he could scare Cass. He drove her tongue against the roof of his mouth, letting her feel what she was doing to him.

"Still want it Cass?" he flashed her his fangs, wanting to give her a chance to back down, praying she wouldn't take it.

"Hell yes", she groaned and turned her neck to him. "Do it, Davy."

More than happy to let her have her way, he nipped the skin, a love bite. Fastening his lips on the vulnerable derma, Davy closed his eyes and savored what was happening: a beautiful, sensuous woman who wanted him even knowing the black truth. Determined not to inflict too much pain, the Brit brought his teeth down, only piercing the upper surface. Blood instantly welled to the broken skin and he stroked the rivulets with his tongue.

"More," Cass wailed and he gave it to her. Clamping his jaw over the fresh wounds, he slammed the extended teeth deep into her flesh. Cass yelled and twisted her body along his. "YESSSS!" Her fists pounded his shoulder blades. "GOD YESSSS!"

Holy hell, she was going to kill him. If she was this intense during a meal, how would she be when he laid her down and...? They passed desire when she begged him to bite her, he was now to the point of needing to make love to her. He drank to his fill before sealing the twin holes with his saliva, which contained a coagulative agent. "Can we take this to your bedroom, love ?" Davy strove for a light tone while his body shook and his mind wanted to weep with his need for her.

"Oh," Cass's head fell back, her lips were curved in a kiss-bruised smile. She brushed a strand of hair from his eyes. "Yes. Please."

Never a man to be asked twice, Davy scooped her up in his arms, carrying her as if she were truly fragile and precious. Without turning on any lights, he placed her onto the bed and shucked his clothes quickly. He wanted the tenderness of undressing her, showing his with hands how incredible she was to him. But Cass was too eager, tossing things off before he had the chance. He laid down, rolling next to her so their bodies brushed together. This time, the kisses were softer, more languid. The cadence of their mingled breathing, the moon dappled shadows on the wall...when he felt her shaking with pleasure, with her release, he watched her face, memorizing every nuance of her beauty. When he came inside her, he felt something deeper shift in his soul.

*

Gawd, she hated algebra. Fiona traced the xeroed numbers of the worksheet. How was she supposed to care about solving for x when she had bigger issues at hand ? Coming to live with Mira, she had been so grateful to get out of the system, she hadn't questioned her luck. Slowly, over the last year, though, the strange coming and goings in the apartment were starting to bother her.

First, there was Mike. Oh, he was great...at least, when he was there, which was only after dark. For sometime Fiona wondered if he wasn't a criminal or hiding out for some reason, but Mike was a straightforward guy. And Mira was as honest as they came, she couldn't believe her foster mom would harbor a felon or risk putting Fiona in a home around one. She liked her foster family but she was beginning to see how odd their behavior was. Yesterday she had rushed home from school and used all her Home Ec skills to make a romantic dinner for Mike and Mira. After the food was cooked, she lit some candles, cleaned the house, and set the table with Mira's favorite rose patterned china. The setting was cozy and romantic and she even got Uncle Micky to bring her some wine to go with the fish. Mira had teared up, touched that her ward went to all the trouble for her. Mike had been appreciative to. Fiona left them in peace, peeking in only once to see that her efforts were going well...and noticed that Mike wasn't eating. Fiona's feeling were a little hurt but with some further thought, she couldn't remember ever seeing Mike eat. Or Uncle Davy or Micky. They weren't around before nightfall either.

Her boyfriend Peter spent lotsa daytime hours with her, but she had never noticed him eating or drinking. Whatever affected Mike, Davy and Micky went for her Peter, too.

But the latest incident to raise her worry happened earlier today. Mira had left for work and Fiona was about to call out to Peter to come and spend the morning with her. However, things were getting pretty intense between them; she didn't wanna stop at just kissing. She loved Peter. She was his. Her friends at school giggled and joked, all ready initiated in the strange and mysterious world of sex. There were stories of woe and regret, wasting the first time with the wrong guy. Fiona didn;t want that; she wanted her virginity to be a gift to Peter and she was ready for that time to be now. Mira had talked her through the birds and bees, making sure to emphasize the importance of using protection. Though she couldn't confess things wholly to her foster mother, she still took the lesson to heart and searched the apartment for condoms. None were to be found in the bathroom. For a married couple, Mike and Mira were very private so Fiona assumed if they were using any, they would have them hidden. She tiptoed to Mira's closet and looked for a box.

But...in the corner there was a heap of transparent plastic sacks, and Fiona saw medical tubing wadded up along the pile. Terrified and hesitant, she timidly glanced inside; it was full of IV collection bags, a few smears of blood still clinging to the plastic seams. Just like the ones from Red Cross drive at school.. but.....it made no sense....

The sight made her sick and got her to thinking about the hushed whispers, the averted glances the adults sometimes exchanged. Things were going on around her and she didn't like not knowing what. Questioning Peter didn't help; he was evasive, almost ..guilty. He knew more than he was telling her but he had these misguided ideas about 'protecting' her.

Coming right out and asking Peter didn't yield answers. But she wasn't without weapons; he loved her and she just had to convince him that she could handle whatever was going on. Today she was trying a different tactic. Fiona just hoped it didn't backfire.

Peter lay next to her on her bed. Sunlight shon on his golden hair and she was once again reminded of her Angel. "Peter I love you."

_I love you, too, Fiona._

Summoning her courage, she asked him, "Is there..anything you need to tell me?"

Peter leaned up on one elbow, his eyes roaming her face. _No. Why do you ask ?_

"Just stuff I've ...noticed. With Mira and Mike....and Uncle Davy and Micky. " she pleaded to him with her eyes. "Nobody ever eats here, Peter. And other than Mira, I don't see any one during the day. Well,...I mean...you. But then..."

_Sweetheart, you're very young. A lot of the things that you don't understand now ..._

She sighed. Here he went again with the same old "someday all will be made clear" answer. Drastic measures were the only route left. Fiona slid off the bed and stood up, unsnapping her jeans and letting them fall down her legs before stepping out of them. Peter looked as if she had shot him, staring at her, wide eyed and open mouthed. At least she had his attention now. Stealing herself against a wave of shyness, Fiona whisked her Fall Out Boy t-shirt over her head. Forcing her arms down at her sides when she desperately wanted to cover herself, she climbed back onto the bed. With a hand on his chest, she pushed Peter onto his back and straddled his hips. Locking her gaze with his, she reached behind her and unhooked her bra, throwing it to the pile on the floor.

"Peter," she purred, leaning over him until her lips were barely an inch away. "Tell me the truth. What's going on that I don't know about ?"


	5. Chapter 5

Ask and ye shall recieve, Officer Hill, Cass thought, astounded by the pile of papers waiting for her at work. Whoever handled her message at the VA had sent through enough papers to line a few miles of highway. It would figure she'd end up with a week's worth of reading now when she finally had something other than her job to think about. This Stanley fellow had to be one captivating person to inspire so many hours of documentation. Notes weren't important now, Cass scanned for the case history folder knowing it would have the most basic facts. Much older and more creased, worn than the other files, Lee's life and personal background were no more than a few thin sheets.

A farm boy, one sister, both parents deceased before he was 10, Lee had apparently gone to the big city to live with his much older sister. Cass pulled out a photocopied picture of the boy standing next to his sibling, a glamorous, well dressed woman. Cass flicked back to her reading. Julie Stanley had been a small time B movie actress, mainly window dressing in dozens of teen beach comedies from the early 60s. On Lee's 16 th birthday, she had committed suicide, slashing her neck in the bathtub. The narrative account noted that Lee was insistent that Julie's death was not self inflicted, despite the coroner ruling otherwise. Bouncing around in foster care of a year, Lee then enlisted after turning 17 and was deployed to Vietnam. He served 2 tours, discharged honorably and attended college on the GI Bill, never marrying or moving out of the house he bought near his sister's former home. In the 60's the district had been a fashionable area but had since degraded into streets of drug houses and prostitutes.

"You almost make me feel sad for you, Lee ," Cass muttered to another picture of Stanley during military service. He was lined up with other soldiers but not sharing their smiles or mutual comraderie. An outsider, his sister must have been the one person he could claim cared for him. Loss of that magnitude was something Cassie understood intimately, but at least Deidre Hill had seen her daughter left with family who could care for her. Teenaged Lee had lost everything and been left alone. Further down the page a large red circle overlapped the text, "SEE PSYCH EVAL." scribbled inside. Oh, brother.

"For you, " another rookie officer tossed a green plastic portfolio binder into her lap. Attached was a post it note, "Case:572384McKay". Right now, there were bigger fish to fry.

20 minutes later, Cassie found the first of many entries detailing psychiatric assesments Lee Stanley had elicited over the past 38 years. Davy's initial response was proving correct, the man was a raving lunatic. Many notes cited a recomendation for long term hospitalization. Slowly, the story began to make sense.

Julie had been involved with another actor, and when the relationship ended, she became despondent, eventually taking her own life. The boyfriend actor, a man James referred to as Mick, clearly had not taken his involvement with Julie as seriously as she had. Lee insisted that Mick had promised his sister parts in movies after he married her and introduced her to his connections at the studio. At some point, Julie's beau had packed up and left without backward glance. Julie Stanley was destroyed by the loss of her lover and that led to the horrible outcome. At Lee's urging the police made a genuine effort to establish the identity of 'Mick' but that went nowhere, the psychiatrist even implying the missing actor to be a figment of Lee's paranoid schizophrenia.

Cass cringed over the next few lines. Frustrated that no one was able to locate Mick, Lee launched into tirades deirected at the police and news media, arguing Mick was real and he was a vampire. His sister died because her undead suitor used mind control on her and then cut her off, like a junkie going cold turkey. That, he maintained, was what killed Julie Stanley. Cass pinched the bridge of her nose, this was almost too painful to read. Here, the shrink took a different play and asked Lee to explain vampires to him as he was unaware himself. Various far fetched descriptions, many contradicting, many nonsense were given. One jumped out at Cass.... the doctor had written "likes easy meals, subject says, indicating a dislike of women viewed as morally vague or sexually promiscuous, whereas subject's sister is the virginal ideal of womanhood."

The light went on. Lee believed vampires drank from prostitutes so he was drawing them out, interfering with their food supply. Vampires 'killed' his sister so he was waging some war with his undead nemesis' right where they lived, or in this case, where they ate. Cass hadn't met Davy's 'family' beyond Mike, but Davy had filled her in and she had a pretty clear idea who the 'actor Mick' was. She flipped her cell phone open and dialed.

One the third ring there was an answer. "Hello?"

"Hey Mira, it's Cass. Look, I know what's been going on. Can we meet up and touch base later on?"

*

Mira agreed to leave work early, pleading illness, so they could talk before the guys rose. Just before 4, Cass was knocking on the door. Surprised to see Fiona open the door, she made a note to let Mira know she had a certain casefile in case her friend had questions of her own. It wasn't the fact that the pretty teenager answered the door that was so strange, the girl was smiling, grinning ear to ear, bubbly and friendly, unlike the night they had met.

"Hey Cassie! Mira said to show you in..." the girl turned and literally skipped...skipped..to Mira's living room. It was baffling but the Cass was grateful to be spared the private lovely dovey conversation this visit. Mira was wrapping up the vaccuum cord, obviously just finished tidying up. Fiona bounced over and gave the bewildered woman a bear hug. "Here she is, Mira!! I'm gonna go and do my homework now."

Cass watched her chestnut curls disappear down the hall. "What is up with her?"

"I don't know!" Mira laughed. " And I don't care, Cass, I just don't. You have no idea how nice it is to finally have something other than a sulking teenager around here. Mike's going to ask what I did with the real Fiona."

"Er...k. So anyway...um, Davy and I,...had a discussion. About....everyone.." Trying to be delicate, Cassie fumbled for the right words.

"Oh," Mira waved her hands in a shoo-ing motion."I knew it was a matter of time, the way you two were eye humping. I gotta warn you, though, because no one told me, being together will be...difficult."

"We're not exactly--" Cassie stopped midsentence. How to explain when she wasn't sure what she was explaining ? "So yea, anyway....have a seat and I'll tell you what I've found out." Taking care to lay out the bare facts, Cass repeated all she had surmised to Mira.

"I'm no cop, Cass, but it sounds like you're barking up the right tree." Mira stood up. "Better stick around, Mike'll be here in a little bit. Screw cooking, I'm ordering pizza."

*

"Do me a favor, Dave," Mike asked. "Round up Micky and Peter."

Cass hid her disappointment. She was so anxious to see him, had so many things to say. She no more than flashed him a smile when Mike requested gathering every one up.

"I'm on it, " he told Mike, a wink to Cass.

"Now, Miss Cass, " Mike, pacing the room, swung back to her, "what exactly happens now?"

"First I call my Lieutenant and brief him. From there on it's totally in his hands. I was telling your wife here, all I have is suspicion and coincidence. We both know this is most likely the guy. But Palma, he's a by the books detective; he'll weigh the odds, look at the facts and without a big flashing sign, he's not gonna do much other than tail Stanley."

Two men entered the room, Davy behind them "Hey hey. What's the big pow wow for?". The curly haired man was easily recognizable as Davy's friend from their parking lot encounter. He looked over at Cass and then at Mike.

"She knows. Get in here Pete." A blond man with a very slight build slinked into the furthest corner. Had she not known the story, Cass would have believed him to be 19 or 20. Except that, for all conventional purposes, he was dead.

"PETER!" the shrill shriek came from another room. Fiona's head popped around the doorframe. "Peeeteee. Hi, babe!"

"We're in the middle of an important meeting, sweetpea," Mira spoke up. "Go upstairs and clean your room; when we're done you two can have some time together."

"Ohhhh" Fiona said on a sly tone, staring at Peter. "One of those things huh? All right, I'm leaving..." After she left, her boyfriend's eyes remain glued to where she had been.

Young love, Cass sighed inwardly, enough to make everyone else sick.' Ok kids, brass tacks, " Cass spent the next 15 minutes re-repeating the story of Lee Stanley and his involvement with the dead women. " Now why am I telling you this: Palma might not pursue the lead, at least not as aggressively as he should; he'll drag his feet until he decides there's enough to work on. In the meantime..."

"More girls die, " Davy finished for her, plopping down beside her on the sofa.

"Right. So.." Cass took his hand and gave it a squeeze, " here's where I'm at. I can't technically do anything more after I check in tomorrow. You guys, however, have free reign. Keep your eyes on the streets, make sure this nutcase isn't calling out anymore of your kind. Hell, take him behind a building and drain him dry, I don't care !!"

"Man," Micky was sitting, leaning his back along the wall. He scrubbed his face with his hands. " The name rings a bell but I can't say I remember her. Whatever she thought, I swear, I never lead her on. Everybody dated everbody on the Hollywood 't say I was more into her than some other chickies."

Cass shook her head. "She had a home and an otherwise happy life and she chose her exit. These poor girls getting killed are all ready living on skid row. I got to know some of them. Their lives have been hell and they don't deserve to die like animals."

"Yea and since this is your doing, Micky, you should be the one playing watch. " Davy informed him angrily. " We knew this girlfriend business, hanging around with 'em after eating, was going to go bust "

"Yea but Mike..." Micky gestured toward the taller man. Mira speared him a look that shut him up. "Nevermind."

"Then tha's settled. " Davy rose, his hand still wrapped around Cass's effectively pulling her up with him. " Now if you gents'll excuse us, I'd like some private time with my woman."

"Are you guys done ?" Fiona yelled. "Mira you promised !?" Peter didn;t wait for permission, running towards the sound of her voice.

Davy smiled at Cass. They may be young but she understood what they felt.

*

Heaven could be no sweeter than where she was now, Cass mused. Warm and blissful from their lovemaking, she lay curled in Davy's arms. Her hottie vampire boyfriend was propped up on the pillows, reading through the various Stanley papers.

"I almost wish Micky does do him in. My understanding is when they're insane like this bloke, they lock them up in mental health day care." he said, stroking Cass's hair.

"Pretty much." She drifted off, the smell and feel of Davy surrounding her. A long time passed, the only sound, Davy shuffling papers.

"Cass?" Davy nudged her half asleep head.

"Mmmhm."

"What was your mother's name, love?' the way he said it made her turn over.

"Deidre Jane Anne Hill. Where is this coming from..." she never finished because he practically shoved a sheaf of legal copy into her face. "What is this?" Cass asked sitting up more fully.

"This was in some folder about Fiona. Look," he pointed to a line halfway down the paper.

"....'and it is the recommendation of the state that the above mentioned minor child be placed under the physical custody of the state of.'." she read aloud. "Davy, this is pretty standard legal crap."

"No" he directed her attention to the next line. "Keep reading."

" ..' said child has been fully remanded to the custody of the Sheetz-English Children's Home, per the disolution of parental rights by the filing party, Deidre J Hill..." She stopped and felt the wind knocked out of her.

"Cassie, love." Davy hugged her, placed a kiss on her temple. "You have a sister !"

"What do I do?" This made no sense. "I..can't... I mean, just ...walk in there and..."

Davy nodded. "Upset her life further. Give it a few days to sink in. Then call Mira. ASk her how she wants to handle this."

Cass fell back against the mattress. " I don't...."

"Well, whatever comes of it, we'll handle it. Together." He snuggled close offering comfort.

" Together?" Out of the haze that word slammed her head the hardest. "Do we ...have a together?"

"We can, Cass if you want."

"You're 300 years old, you drink blood, and .." she whole world was so funny some days. Details be damned. "Ah well no one's perfect. " She turned over so they were laying face to face. "Yes, Davy. I want. I very much want."

*

Unfortunately, the limo came at 5 which meant Mike wouldn't get to see Fiona off. Mira held back happy tears, watching the stunning young woman in the diaphonous white gown daintily enter her conveyance to the dance. She had gotten at least 100 pics to show him, pretty princess Fiona and her very nervous date, a Japanese exchange student who spoke heavily accented English. As the limo disappeared around a turn, Mira flipped through the screen shots, slowly making her way back upstairs to the apartment. Fiona looked gorgeous, her skin nearly glowing. Joy emanated her entire body. Not just tonight, the whole past two weeks the younger woman had been just giddy over life in general. On the screen was an image of a girl, at the most beautiful , radiant...

Mira halted. Just a short year or so earlier, hadn't someone described her the same way? When she had...?

No. Peter would not dare.

"Oh Mike get here soon." she whispered to the empty place. " The world gets too crazy when you're gone..."

(continued....soon!)


End file.
